Trauer und Bedauern
by pueblocutter
Summary: Summary A group of strangers meet over the course of a month, to talk about the lives they can remember having,but not really living. Oneshot. Written for the Homestuck 2013 Secret Santa Gift Exchange. This is for go follow their awesome blog, they're really great.


Notes:

Merry Christmas, here's something I wrote for my giftee for the Secret Santa exchange going on around Tumblr, I'm very sorry if this story isn't any good, I tried my best, and these are characters I'm not very familiar with, again, I'm sorry.

Work Text:

Porrim decided Damara should be in charge of snacks for their first meeting. When she told her, the young Japanese woman said nothing but turned and skulked off to the kitchen to look through the recipe books for ideas. While she was busy with that Porrim set about cleaning up the basement for tomorrow. The cement floor was easy to sweep up and she had no problems cleaning the fold out chairs they would be using. They had rented out the basement of an Episcopalian church downtown for their meeting space after deciding they should go ahead with the meetings after weeks of planning.

It started when Porrim had been speaking to one of her coworkers about the theory of past life regression, and how that was something that many people had experienced but there wasn't really a local support group in their area. At work, Damara was the only person she had managed to recruit to help her set things up to start a support group. They had spent the past two weeks passing out flyers around the city to promote the first meeting of Past Life Regression Anonymous, or P.L.R.A. as Porrim decided to call it. They weren't expecting a big turnout, but still Porrim hoped someone would show up. After all you put effort into something you kind of hope to get something back in return.

That Thursday in February was the day of the first meeting for P.L.R.A. and that day Mother Nature decided that it was still ostensibly winter. The afternoon skies were grey with clouds, the winds were biting, and frost covered every surface outside. The city was quiet with inactivity, save for the few individuals actually working. Porrim had rented out the basement from 4 to 6, and while she and Damara set things up Porrim made a silent prayer that she and Damara would not be the only ones there for the whole two hours. The basement of the church was warm, and that made it easier to work.

They set the folding chairs up in a circle by the Western wall, to the left of where the stairs that led down into the basement were. There was a folding table set up nearby where they placed the snacks Damara had baked alongside some coffee and Styrofoam cups. The bright fluorescent lights on the ceiling buzzed faintly. The stairs that led into the basement were accessible from a foyer that connected the church from the outside. You entered the foyer, if you went forward you'd be in the church, if you went to the right, you'd find the spiral staircase that led down to the basement.

While there wasn't any church today, the doors were left unlocked as they always were, so anyone who showed up would have no problems getting inside or finding the meeting place. Everything had been set up, and on the doors to the church they had posted another flyer welcoming anyone who was interested to talk about past lives to come down to the basement. As Porrim poured herself a cup of coffee the first person rolled in.

"Hey. Is this the past life regression group meeting?"

Porrim smiled at him, and waved him over. "Yes, it is. Please come in."

A teen with dark blond hair descended the stairs and came over to the circle of chairs. He wore an orange hoodie and dark blue jeans and aviators.

"So is there some kind of seating arrangement?" He asked.

"No, no. Please, sit wherever you like. Would you like some coffee? Maybe some brownies or lemon bars?" Porrim asked.

"Maybe later." He said as he sat down.

Damara sat across from him and eyed him up and down appreciatively. He didn't seem to be paying too much attention to her though.

It didn't take long for the rest of them to gradually show up. After the first person had shown up, three girls and two other guys came down to the basement. After everyone had gotten some coffee and grabbed something to eat, they all sat down, and got the first meeting underway.

Porrim was the first to speak. "Welcome everyone, to the first meeting of Past Life Regression anonymous. I'm Porrim Maryam, I'm 19, this is my coworker Damara Megido," she gestured to Damara who gave a halfhearted wave. "She and I are the same age. Thank you all for coming. I'm not sure exactly how to start, so why don't we just begin with introductions? We can go around the room, and then we can begin to talk about our experiences."

Everyone just looked at each other, but no one spoke. It seemed that just showing up was an effort for them. With no one saying anything, the guy who had come in first leaned forward in his chair to start things off.

"Alright I'll start. My name is Dave, I'm 16, and I experience past life regression."

"Hello Dave." Everyone greeted in unison.

The next person to speak was a girl with short hair, except for the long braided pigtails that trailed down to her ankles. She wore a fuchsia t-shirt and black jeans and a black wool coat. "What up, my name is Meenah Peixes, I'm twenty-two and I experience past life regressions."

"Hello Meenah." The group greeted her.

And on it went, they introduced themselves and greeted each other. There was Porrim and Damara, then there was Dave, and Meenah and Aranea who went to the same local college together, then a young couple named Meulin and Kurloz who were deaf and mute respectively and chose to communicate through sign language, although when they had to say their names Meulin chose to do that vocally instead of signing it so everyone would have the proper pronunciation.

There was only one person left who had yet to introduce themselves. A tall and skinny young man with white blond hair that stuck up everywhere. His most prominent features besides his hair were his long pointy nose and the strange pointy sunglasses he wore that were shaped like triangles. He wore a simple white t-shirt and black jeans.

When it was his turn everyone looked at him and waited for him to wrap up introductions. He didn't seem to want to talk at first, but after he had noticed everyone waiting for him, he sighed before he introduced himself.

"Hello. My name is Dirk, I'm eighteen years old, and I experience past life regression."

"Hello Dirk."

Porrim clapped her hands together after the introductions had been finished.

"Alright well now that we all know each other, why don't we get started?"

"Didn't you say you weren't sure how to start?" Meenah asked, giving Porrim a questioning look.

"Well yes, I mean this was my idea to bring together a group, but honestly I wasn't sure where we could begin with a group that has a very esoteric thing in common." Porrim admitted.

"I didn't even know there were others like me who were dealing with the same things I had." Aranea Serket said.

"So can you get rid of them? The past life thing has been kind of a bummer and I thought this group would be like some therapy type deal or y'all might have the means to get rid of the memories." Dave said.

"Sorry Dave, this is a support group, we don't have the power to get rid of unpleasant memories." Porrim apologized.

"Great." Dave muttered, crossing his arms and shifting in his seat.

"I don't want to get rid of my memories. I just want to know what it all means." Aranea said.

Meulin began signing something, and Aranea translated, as she had done for them earlier.

"I'd like to discuss everyone's…experiences. What everyone has gone through." Aranea said, matching Meulin's hand motions.

"Hey that sounds pretty fucking good." Meenah commented.

"Yes, let's talk about our experiences, our memories." Porrim said.

Instead of speaking, everyone just looked around the room, waiting for someone else to start. It seemed no one was ready to confess anything just yet.

Porrim sighed. "We don't have to do anything right now if we don't want to. The point of meeting was to find people who share the same experiences."

"But not all our experiences are the same." Aranea translated for Kurloz.

"That's true," Porrim conceded, turning to face him, "However, I thought it would be nice to find kindred spirits. Maybe at out next meeting we can individually go into our stories, if we feel comfortable enough sharing them."

There was a lull in the conversation before Meenah said "These lemon bars are fin-tastic." Before biting down on another one.

She didn't say anything, but Damara smirked to herself, pleased with the complimented.

Porrim decided that since no one seemed interested in sharing their stories just yet, they'd end the meeting early after everyone agreed to come back next week.

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Dave watched as everyone else spoke casually to each other in small groups. The girl with the long braids held hands with the girl who was currently running her mouth, and had been for some time after the meeting had ended. He didn't know why she'd choose to wear red high heels when there was ice on the ground. He knew their names, Meenah and Aranea, and just by looking at them, he knew they were a couple.

Dave grabbed another brownie, biting into it as he stood next to the table, watching Meulin and Kurloz signing to each other in a very excitable matter. He didn't talk to them, but he noticed they both had a talent for reading lips and body language.

He thought he should leave, but it was warm in that church basement, and it had been a long time since he'd been in a room with people he had things in common with, even if it was only one specific thing he had in common with them. He thought he should try talking to someone, rather than end up being seen as some anti-social asshole who stood by themselves in the corner.

He made his way over to Damara, who was sipping coffee by herself. He saw that she wore a dark red ankle length dress with short sleeves. Her shiny black hair was pulled back into a messy bun, with two strands that had fallen loose to frame her face.

He approached her and saw she had a harsh face, with stern lips and disinterested eyes.

"Uh, hey. You're Damara, right? Isn't that some kind of sheep?" Dave asked her.

She regarded him, and looked him up and down, paying particular attention to his crotch.

"あなたはそのセーターにホットに見える." She said.

Dave coughed, "What?"

She moved closer to him. "私はあなたに触れることをしたい."

"Look I'm sorry, I don't speak Japanese, I'm not sure what it is you're telling me." Dave said.

"私を指男子高校生." She replied, leaning into him.

Dave backed away from her. "Judging from your tone, I'm guessing whatever you're saying isn't rated G."

It was at this point that Dirk came between them, and stared Damara down.

"ねえ. それは下劣に聞こえる." Dirk said to her.

Both Damara and Dave stared at him, neither one of them expected the guy who had barely said a word since entering the room to come between them and to speak Japanese right back to her.

Damara twisted one of her hair strands with one of her manicured dark red nails.

"それはポイントである." She told Dirk.

"彼は16才だけである." Dirk replied.

Dave didn't know where Dirk, who sure as hell wasn't Japanese, learned to speak Damara's language like a fucking expert like that.

Damara rolled her eyes.

"私の国で彼は13の年齢によって法的である." She said to him, with a hint of obviousness in her tone.

"これは日本ではない. 後退させなさい." Dirk told her.

Damara scoffed, but went over to stand with Meenah and Aranea.

Dave peered at Dirk, who appeared as stoic as he had throughout his interactions with Damara.

"Do I want to know what she was saying?" Dave asked Dirk.

"Probably not. If she kept it up I'm sure her come-ons would have gotten more graphic." Dirk replied.

"She was hitting on me?" Dave asked, looking back at her.

"Yeah. I mean you must've known, what with her tone and body language."

"I had an idea that's what she was doing." Dave said, looking at Dirk again.

"Did you want to see where that would lead?" Dirk asked him.

"Nah. Don't tell anyone, but aggressive chicks intimidate me." Dave told him.

"Alright." Dirk said.

"Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for women power and everything, I just can't be letting everyone and their mom know I'm not a complete stud." Dave rambled.

"Don't worry, I didn't think of you in that light at all." Dirk said.

"Thanks….hey." Dave said when he realized what Dirk had said to him.

Dirk chuckled at Dave's indignation.

Dave huffs, "What about you? Seen any chicks here you'd like to take home?"

Dirk eyes him out of the corner of his sunglasses and regards him coolly.

"I'll be honest with you, I'm not really into girls. I'm into guys."

It takes exactly less than three seconds for Dave to reply.

"Cool. Do you want to take me home?"

Dirk frowns at him.

"You're sixteen, do you know how uncomfortable I am with that? Sorry, I don't do jailbait."

"Geez, it was just a suggestion." Dave said, feigning offense while walking around Dirk before heading over to Porrim.

"Hey, Porrim, right?" Dave asked her.

"Yes, what can I do for you Dave?' Porrim asked, stepping away from Meulin so she could focus on him.

"The next meeting is next week on Saturday, right?" He asked her.

"Yes, from two to four. Will we see you there?" She asked.

"If there's more awesome snacks, then yeah." Dave answered.

Porrim laughed, "Take care Dave."

"Yeah, you too." He told her.

Dave didn't bother saying goodbye to the others, he hadn't really spoken with any of them, and thought it would be weird to tell strangers goodbye as he was leaving. Besides, he'd see them next week, and he was sure no one had missed him when he ascended the stairs and left the church building.

The sky had turned a dark kohl color, marred with thick clouds. The people on the streets were bundled in layers upon layers of clothes, and they moved with urgency. The cars on the roads drove slowly, carefully, even with the salt on the ground to prevent slipping on the ice. The winds were bitingly cold still, and they whipped everything that wasn't tied down.

Dave walked quickly, pulling his hood over his head. He noticed the looks people gave him when they saw he wore sunglasses in the middle of the night, and how he sometimes stumbled. It would most likely be much easier to see if he just took off his aviators, but he just didn't. He was so used to them, and he felt extremely uneasy whenever he had to take them off he avoided removing his sunglasses unless it was absolutely necessary. So he made his way down the streets, occasionally stumbling and bumping into strangers, and letting himself be guided more by sound rather than sight.

He walked farther and farther, until he came to the city's homeless shelter. The lady at the front desk let him in after he signed the papers that said he was staying in for the night. Normally the curfew and insistence that he stay in the shelter annoyed him, but during the winter months he was more than happy to get inside before it became too cold outside. He went to get his cot and pillow and blanket, and set up his makeshift bed over in the corner, away from everyone else. Dave ate some lemon bars he had stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie earlier when no one was looking.

He ate slowly, savoring each one. He wouldn't eat anything until tomorrow morning when he could leave the shelter and get some food from a local convenience store. There was maybe twenty minutes before the kitchens closed, but it wasn't worth the walk to get a lukewarm sandwich or some watery oatmeal. Not that he minded going out and getting his own meals, the food at the shelter was disgusting and didn't fill him up anyway.

After he ate, he placed his shoes in a locker that was given to him when he first came to the shelter. He also put his shades in there as well; he didn't want anyone stealing his sunglasses, they were his most coveted possession after all. The harsh lights in the shelter made everything around him too bright and ugly. He made his way back to his cot, and climbed into bed. He had a long day of nothing, and that tired him out. He relaxed as best he could against the firm cot, and wrapped the fuzzy blanket around himself.

As he lay down he listened to the conversations going on around him, the meaningless chit chat that filled these people's lives. Dave had always preferred silence to talking, even though it was easy to catch him monologue to himself when no one was around. He loved talking to himself. He listened to the faint buzzing of the lights above him, he watched the dust particles in the air. He closed his eyes, and thought of Dirk, and how cold and curt he had been when he spoke to him. He'd rather think of him than dwell on the things he dreamed about lately, things like bleeding and molting, and feeling half complete, like he was solid but he could be transparent when he wanted to be.

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Aranea moved around the dorm room, picking up Meenah's dirty laundry. As much as Meenah loved water, she didn't love any domestic chores involving water. For as long as she had known her Aranea and never seen Meenah do laundry or dishes. The only cleaning action Aranea had seen her girlfriend ever do was take long showers. She didn't think she helped with Meenah's grungy habits, after all anything Meenah didn't feel like doing, Aranea did for her.

Aranea carried the bundle over to the laundry room, and proceeded to fill the washing machine with her girlfriend's clothes. Her own laundry was in the dryer and had forty minutes left. When she had first met her, she assumed Meenah's habit of never wearing the same outfit twice meant she was really into fashion. It turned out she was just a rich kid who had never done laundry in her entire life so she'd just keep buying new outfits. Now that they'd been together for five years, Meenah had taken to wearing the same basic t-shirt and baggy pants with the confidence that her "gill-frond" as she liked to refer to Aranea as, would clean them for her so she wouldn't have to keep buying clothes.

Aranea returned to their dorm room, sat down at her desk, and opened up the biography of Anne Bonny she had on loan from the library. Aranea had a fascination with badass lady pirates from centuries ago. Their lives were so much cooler than hers. The most exciting thing Aranea had ever done in her entire life was sneak out once in high school to see a rock concert with Meenah. These women had done so much and experience real life by the time they were her age, and here she was, twenty-two and living an ordinary, boring life. It didn't seem fair, especially when she knew there was so much more she could be doing.

She read Anne Bonny's life story until her eyes started to hurt and she needed a break. She put her book away as Meenah came back to their room.

"How was class?" Aranea asked.

"Boring as all get out. 'Ey Serket, why don't you quit that early morning class bullshit and join me in the afternoon classes?" Meenah asked her.

Aranea watched Meenah toss her bag off in the corner. She smiled as Meenah sat down on their bed.

"Because I'd rather get my classes out of the way and go early so I have the rest of the day to myself. Why don't you switch to some early classes?" Aranea asked.

Meenah made a 'pssh' noise before telling her, "Because I need my cod damn beauty sleep. I ain't about getting up at the ass crack of dawn to go to class."

"Hmmhmm," Aranea hummed, spinning around in her chair.

"I think…" Meenah started, and Aranea stopped spinning to look at her girlfriend.

"What?" Aranea asked when she saw Meenah would need some prodding to finish.

"I think at the next past life meeting, you should be the one to start the discussion. You know, talk about your experiences first." Meenah told her.

Aranea crossed her ankles.

"Why me?" Aranea asked.

Meenah fidgeted and crossed her arms.

"Well… I mean damn Serket, you know I don't want to be rude or nothing, but I just think it'd be easier if we got your deal out of the way sooner."

"Because you think I'm someone who talks for longer than is necessary? That I'm long winded, and we should just get my deal over and done with." Aranea said.

"That's exactly what I'm saying. We both know you're one verbose mother fucker. It's nothing to be ashamed of, I love the way words sound when they come out of that mouth of yours."

"But people who don't know me as well as you do might not be particularly interested in having me ramble on and on about myself." Aranea said, going over to stand in front of Meenah.

"I'm sorry-" Meenah started.

"Don't be, I get it. I know I have a bad habit of making everything about me. Okay. At the next meeting, I'll volunteer to go first." Aranea told her.

Meenah grinned up at her, then grabbed Aranea's hips, and pulled her close to her. She gently massaged the areas between her back and hips and thighs, pressing her fingers against the tender flesh no one else was privy to. She buried her face against the tight blue material of Aranea's dress, where her torso was. Aranea moved closer to her and placed a hand on Meenah's head, feeling the soft, wiry hair there that she loved to touch. She hummed as Meenah kissed her hip bones.

"Meenah…Meenah, I still have laundry to do." Aranea said, even as she felt herself being pulled even closer to her.

"Our clothes aren't going anywhere, except maybe the floor." Meenah answered.

"Oh, but I haven't even vacuumed ye-t!" Aranea jumped a little as Meenah lifted up her skirt and tugged on her underwear.

"Hey, relax for me, ok? I can't get the first finger inside you if you don't stop squirming." Meenah told her.

"Just use some spit." Aranea tells her.

Meenah pulls Aranea onto their bed, and gets to work on pulling her girlfriend's spiderwoman themed underwear off. Aranea thinks of how she should really take her clothes out of the dryer. As soon as Meenah has her head between Aranea's thighs however, all thoughts of cleaning leave her mind and are replaced with more carnal ideas. Meenah's right, she thinks to herself, the clothes can wait.

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The next meeting started off a little easier than last week. The weather hadn't improved, everyone came down to the basement in thicker coats, except for Dave, who wore the same orange hoodie. Damara had made cookies, some cinnamon ones and chocolate chip. Porrim had suggested a healthier option like oatmeal raisin or walnut carrot cookies. Damara just flipped her off as her response to that.

Porrim wore a red sweater over her long black dress. It was the only sweater she owned, and it was one she had made herself years ago. Every time she puts it on, she feels wrong inside. This sweater isn't for you, she tells herself. It's meant for someone else. But as long as she's been alive, she's never been able to find the person that red sweater belonged to. So every winter she wears it, and every winter she feels like she's wearing clothes that don't really belong to her.

"Alright, we're all here. Now who'd like to start?" Porrim asked.

"Um, I would!" Aranea volunteers.

Porrim nods, "Go right ahead."

Aranea doesn't bother to see if anyone is looking at her, or if anyone's listening. She agreed with Meenah that she'd get her story over and done with, and she was going to talk for as long as she had to. She cleared her throat, and placed her hands in her lap. She looked over to Meenah for encouragement before starting. Meenah mouthed, go ahead, Aranea smiled at her before she took a breath, and began to speak.

"It started about eight years ago. I would get little flashes here and there, of things I remembered doing, but later on I would come to realize were just things I had imagined doing. But…they felt so real! I would think about something that came to me in a dream or memories that would come out of nowhere, and I'd wonder: Why am I remembering this? Why? I knew the things I was remembering hadn't really happened to me. But whenever the memories came around, I would focus on them, and even though I knew they had to be fake, some obtuse trick of the mind, somewhere deep down inside of myself, a very small part of myself that's grown over the years, knew that those memories were indeed real, even if I couldn't really remember them. See, they always felt like things that had happened to someone else, since they were things that hadn't happened to me. Or at least, I couldn't really remember them happening to me, not really. But over the years the memories that were once fuzzy and faint in the back of my mind became clearer, more focused. Like the color had been returned to my sight. Still, these memories were always faint, and I would find myself grasping, trying to get at them so I could analyze them more. Around my first year of college, Meenah told me she had been experiencing something similar to what I was going through. What she had been experiencing wasn't exactly the same thing I had been going through, her latent memories were different, but the result was the same. Memories of a past life that felt so real and yet wasn't."

The air around the basement was thick and stale, heavy with nervousness. Everyone had their eyes trained on Aranea, they listened to the words that fell from her lips. Her voice was clear and strong, and gained in strength as she continued on.

"Since our memories of our past lives weren't exactly the same, I'll stick to telling you about mine. See, over the years I realized that the fuzzy bits and pieces I was getting weren't just one life I was reminiscing, but two. It took a long time for me to figure it out, but when I had, it made it easier to differentiate which ones were which. I employed the use of two journals to keep track of them. Now I can't pull up these memories on command, they come to me in flashes. It took Meenah and I some time to come to terms with the possibility that the memories we could remember were things from our past lives. Over the years, it became obvious that that was exactly what it was. I think it would be easier for me to talk about the first batch of memories from my past life, because those are the ones that have gotten stronger over time. In my dreams, in my memories that aren't really mine, I'm not me. I'm someone else, in another body, with a different voice, a different face. But I'm still me, in a very fucked up way. I think I'd associate with the phenomenon of astral projection combined with possession. I see everything, hear, feel, and taste, smell my surroundings, in a body that isn't mine that I can't really control. In this life, I remember being someone who loved to talk, even more so than I do now. I'm a young girl, younger than I am now, with shorter hair and I'm wearing white-rimmed horned glasses and a dark blue dress that always reminds me of spiders. I live a tall, dark castle, alone except for my neighbors who live in castles of their own. Now, this will sound insane, and believe me, I've tried for so long to justify it, but I can't. In this life, I was raised by a giant, white spider. I can't recall any relatives of my own, the girl I remember being had only that giant spider to look after her for so long. I can remember having the ability to read others' emotions, as an empath. I obviously don't have this ability now, but I can remember feeling the emotions of others. And…I-I'm sorry. I can't keep talking about this, for one, my mouth is dry, and for another, it's starting to make my head hurt. I'll say this to wrap things up, because I feel really stupid telling you all this, and I'm sure I must sound stupid for saying this out loud, but, in my other life, I was, um, a female pirate who lost an eye and an arm and my fleet was destroyed by a giant dragon. Also, I'm pretty sure I had some device that told me that I would die at the hands of my lover."

While Aranea stopped to take a much needed breath, Meenah flipped one of her very long braids back, and started to speak.

"I'll fill you in on the rest of the details of her story. Serket here used to tell me tales of her past self, of her being this wallflower exposition fairy, and then remembering being this badass pirate lady. One day she'd remember the feelings of someone she'd never laid eyes on in her entire life, and the next she'd be screaming about the pain of seeing an old lover murdered. A lover she had never had in this life. Gotta say Serket," She placed a hand on Aranea's thigh, that made her girlfriend jump a bit, but she calmed down when she saw Meenah's face. "You did great. You explained your deal perfectly, and it didn't take as long as I thought it would."

Aranea grabbed Meenah's hand and kissed it.

"Thank you Meenah, that means a lot." Aranea told her.

"Meenah, would you like to tell us your story?" Porrim asked her.

"Sure. I'mma keep this brief though. In my past life, I remember living in a huge castle on a pink moon, with a fucking huge gold statue of myself. I lived all alone, for years. I had this sweet golden trident that I liked to call ma pointy jam. I can remember running away from my responsibilities. I think I might have been a princess? Which makes some sense, I'm rich as Hell. I can remember being lonely for a long time, and rejecting everything around me that wasn't gold or aquatic. Like Aranea, I've got another set of past life memories that are different from the main ones. These aren't as strong as the other ones, but what I can recall the most is being someone very old and very young all at once. What sticks in my mind the most is being someone with absolute power and having this huge love for murder and mayhem. And a huge love for baking. Cod damn, you were right Aranea, this whole thing is embarrassing and makes me want to crawl inside a sea cave. I've never told anyone except my gill-frond about my past life as a fish princess and I don't think I'll be doing that ever again."

Porrim glanced at the clock on the wall.

"We're out of time. Meenah, Aranea, it was incredibly brave of you both to share with us like that. I think we can pick this up next week on Friday. Everyone please be here at 2 p.m., thanks."

Dave watched Aranea and Meulin leave together.

"I don't know Meenah, I don't think I told them enough, I mean there were so many details to the story I left out! I think I was too brief because of my embarrassment."

"Aranea, sweetheart, believe me, you said enough. Now let's get back to the campus, these sorority chicks I'm tight with invited us to their fish fry."

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Dirk walked outside and found Dave talking with Meulin and Kurloz. Talking wasn't really the right word. They were actually mouthing words and reading lips. He didn't have anything better to do, so he made his way over to them. Meulin seemed like an okay kind of gal but her boyfriend Kurloz just made him feel kind of on edge. That freaky mime makeup he wore didn't help matters. Clowns. Mimes. Anything that wore face paint like that on purpose just creeped him out. Of course, that was just an aesthetic thing. Maybe the dude wasn't as scary as he looked.

Dirk saw that Kurloz and Meulin wore matching wool coats, but where Kurloz's was black, Meulin's was an olive color. He noticed they had a habit of wearing the same type of outfits, all layered and thick and black and purple and olive in color. They sort of looked like each other, the way couples that had obviously been together for a long time do. They both had long, thick and shiny black hair that looked like it needed to be de-tangled, and pale, pale skin. Where Kurloz was taller and a bit skinnier, Meulin was a head shorter than him, with very defined feminine curves.

"Hey. What's going on?" Dirk asked as he approached the trio.

"Hey Dirk! We were just talking about going to our place to light up some nip. Did you want to join us?" Meulin asked him.

"Are you talking about catnip?" Dirk asked her.

"She means weed." Dave clarified.

"Well I could've guessed that." Dirk retorted.

Dave shook his head, and placed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

"Hey now, you gotta be careful on these streets. Someone who isn't cool might come around and snitch on ya for purr-taking in recreational drugs. Are you cool, Dirk?" Meulin asked him.

"I'm cool," He told her.

"So do you wanna smoke up some nip with Purr-loz and little Davey and me?" She asked Dirk.

He looked at her energetic face and at Dave's impassive one. It took him less than a minute to decide his answer.

"No thanks. I'm not really getting high, but you go right ahead."

"Where'd you learn to speak Japanese?" Dave asked him.

"Huh?" Dirk asked him, forgetting for a second that Dave was even there.

"Last week, when you were talking to Damara. Where'd a white boy like you learn to speak fluent Japanese like that?"

Dirk sighed and turned on his heels to face Dave. Kurloz had pulled Meulin off to the side so they could have a private discussion.

"I took classes in middle school after I bought some katanas at the state fair when I was twelve. My Japanese isn't all that great, it's rudimentary at best. Actually it's very basic and broken. I can only say enough to get by." Dirk answered.

"Cool." Dave said.

"Aren't you a little young to be to be smoking weed?" Dirk asked.

"No. Aren't you a little old to be questioning what the youth of America are doing?" Dave asked.

Dirk laughed, and that caught Dirk off guard.

"That's pretty funny. Good one. For real though, aren't your parents gonna get mad if you go off to get high with two strangers?"

Dave shrugged and kicked some pebbles by his feet around.

"I doubt they'd care, dude. Seeing as how I don't have any fucking parents man."

"Wait. Are you serious? You don't have parents. Well, who does the school call when you get caught skipping class or something?"

"I don't go to school. Never have." Dave bluntly told him.

Dirk shook his head.

"Fucking Christ, kid, your life story is depressing." Dirk said.

Dave laughed, "Wait until you hear my past life story. You wanna talk depressing? You could sell that shit to Hollywood and make a tearjerker that makes the saddest of films look like straight up comedies."

"Hey. Are you going to be ok going off with those two?" Dirk asked, gesturing to Meulin and Kurloz who were coming back over.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. It beats hanging out in the shelter bored all day, or walking the streets until I have to go in before the shelter closes for the night." Dave replied.

"You live in a fucking shelter? Not cool." Dirk muttered.

Dave shrugged his shoulders. He didn't care what Dirk thought of how he lived his life. He'd gotten along pretty well, all things considered.

Meulin grabbed Dave's arm gently with her mittened hand.

"We're gonna go now," Meulin told Dirk, "Are you sure you don't wanna come along?"

Dirk shook his head.

"Thanks but no thanks. I don't think I have to tell you to keep little Davey here safe." Dirk said, smirking at Dave.

Dave made a face at him.

"What do you care if I'm safe or not?" Dave asked as Meulin started walking away with him.

"WE'LL MAKE SURE YOUR CHILD IS SAFE, SIR!" Meulin yelled at Dirk as she, Kurloz, and Dave walked farther and farther away, giggling as the noise she made frightened some birds away.

As Dirk watched them as they disappeared from sight, he stopped to think about Dave's question. Why did he care about some kid he had barely spoken to and had barely any contact with? He sure as hell didn't care about anyone else in the group. He decided not to dwell on it like he did everything else, and made his way back to his place.

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Dave took off his hoodie, revealing a black t-shirt with a design of a murder of white crows committing actual murder on an unfortunate boy.

"How cute!" Meulin squealed when she saw the shirt.

"Thanks." Dave replied.

Meulin and Kurloz lived in a one bedroom apartment on the south side. Their apartment was tiny and dark, and smelt of weed, incense, and cat. As they hung their coats up and Meulin and Kurloz tossed their mittens and scarves on a table, Dave took note of the several cats wandering around the apartment. He followed Meulin into the kitchen and watched her fill several silver bowls with wet cat food. He looked at their fridge and saw some sticker magnets. On a board was the question 'What's for dinner?' the answer placed there was 'roasted elephant and toasted flies.' Meulin tapped a wooden spoon against the sink, and the cats congregated near the entrance of the kitchen, meowing.

"I know, I know, you're hungry, huh? I'll get your water in a minute." Meulin told the cats as she placed the silver bowls on the floor for them.

Dave thought their apartment was cozy, if a bit cluttered. There were newspapers stacked from the floor nearly to the ceiling and piles of clothes everywhere. Okay, it was a lot cluttered. But he didn't mind it.

"Take your shoes off." Meulin told Dave as she opened the cabinets.

Dave looked down at her feet and saw that some time in between entering the apartment and feeding her cats she had kicked off her shoes and was walking around in beige socks. Dave took off his ratty sneakers and placed them by the coat hanger. He returned to the kitchen and found Meulin making tea. He looked over her shoulder and saw that she was brewing chamomile tea. He thought that she'd probably call it chamo-meow tea or some other cleverer cat pun.

"Do you want anything to eat? There's oranges in the fridge, and there's a cookie jar to your right." Meulin said as she fixed the kettle on the stove.

Dave didn't answer her, but he reached into the cookie jar and pulled out two handfuls of small ginger snaps. He could hear Kurloz in the living room, shuffling things around. He didn't see how that guy could wear that face paint like that, day in and day out, if it were him he'd be scratching his face constantly trying to get it off. After the tea was done, Meulin prepared two mugs for her and Kurloz and let Dave make his own mug so he could put as mug sugar and cream as he liked in his tea. Dave mouthed a silent 'thank you' to Meulin as she passed him in the kitchen to give Kurloz his tea.

After he had his mug of over sugared tea, Dave went into the living room. He saw Meulin and Kurloz sitting on the couch, their mugs on the Hello Kitty coffee table they had decorated with Joker and Harley Quinn stickers. Meulin was flipping through Netflix, going through the horror section. Kurloz was busy taking their stash of weed and the lighters out of a small wooden box. Dave saw the lighted incense on the table that made the room smell like black cherries. Dave sat down, and watched Kurloz pull some small pieces of paper out of a secret compartment in the wooden box. Dave watched him roll joints with an odd fascination.

Meulin had settled on a sleeper horror flick from the eighties. Something gory yet cheesy at the same time. She placed the remote on the table, and picked up her mug. During the movie they smoked joints, and after a while the room became think with their smoke. Fifteen minutes into the movie Meulin had gotten up to get water for her cats. When she came back she flopped onto the couch. They sat there, high on weed, drinking tea and eating ginger snaps. Dave sat in between Kurloz and Meulin, sharing joints and laughing and the shitty special effects in the movie.

"So Meulin," Dave said, facing her. "What's yours and Kurloz's deal? Who were you in a past life?"

Meulin finished sipping her tea, then set it down before she turned back to Dave.

"Don't you want to wait until the next meeting?" Meulin asked.

"Nah," Dave said, "I'd rather hear it now. I'm not really interested in anyone's past life story except yours and maybe Dirk's."

Meulin laughed, "Oh yes, Dirk. I was telling Kurloz how cute you are together."

Dave looked over at Kurloz, who gave him two thumbs up while he had a joint in his mouth.

Dave snorted and turned back to Meulin.

"Yeah right. I don't even know the guy, and I don't think he likes me that way."

"Maybe not, but I'm never wrong about these things. I've got this sense about people and their relationships to each other. And I think there's some potential there. Maybe you knew each other in another life." Meulin giggled.

"I doubt that. Now come on, tell me your deal." Dave said.

"Our deals are tied together. See, Purr-loz and I, we knew each other in our past lives. We were drawn to each other because of that. We can remember being with each other before we ever met. Not surprisingly, we're very similar to how we were in our past lives. I was someone who loved love and cats, and Purr-loz was always by my side, indulging in my interests, being my best friend. We were even deaf and mute, although we weren't always that way."

Meulin paused to drink some tea. She placed her mug back on the table, and turned back to Dave.

"I was born deaf, just like Purr-loz was born without vocal cords. But we can both remember a time when we could speak freely, and hear perfectly. And then there's a memory that's darker and heavier than the others, and neither one of us knows what happened, but after that, neither of us can hear or speak after that point. And that kind of scares me."

"Are you two like Aranea and Meenah? Do you have two sets of memories from two past lives?" Dave asked her.

Meulin nodded her head, this time less enthusiastically.

"Yes, and these other memories we have frighten us. There is nothing but age, and love and loss, blood and death. I think I can recall being happy with someone else for years, but having that having that happiness and love torn away from me in the most violent of ways."

"That sounds really fucking awful." Dave said in between taking another hit.

"It isn't easy living with the knowledge that whoever I was, I most certainly ended up as a tragic person." Meulin said.

They stopped talking for a while, and just sat there smoking weed and watching shitty horror films. Every now and then they'd get up to get more tea or snacks. The room got darker, as the day dragged on and became night. Dave hadn't noticed when Kurloz and Meulin had moved in closer to him, or how crowded their couch had become. He was too high and too content to care that they were both really close to him, and their hands were all over him.

"Hey, Meulin, what are you two doing?" Dave asked after a few minutes of them both nuzzling against him.

"Just having some fun, little birdy." Meulin told him.

Dave gasped as he felt Kurloz's warm tongue dart out to lick a line from his jaw to his earlobe.

Meulin palmed the crotch of Dave's jeans slowly.

"Do you want us to stop?" Meulin asked.

Dave squirmed, but he told her, "No."

"Relax for us. Such a pretty orange birdy, so lost and sad inside. Meow. I could eat you up." Meulin told Dave, kissing his lips and face slowly and methodically.

Dave felt Kurloz's hands wandering around his body, he felt his mouth on his neck, biting and sucking hickies that were sure to be on his skin for several days. Where Meulin was gentle and romantic and sweet, Kurloz was harsh, violent, and demanding. But they were both inherently sexual.

Dave felt their mouths on either side of his neck, kissing, licking, biting, and sucking. He felt their hands all over his body, touching him wherever they could get access. He didn't stop them, he didn't tell them to stop, not once. He was flying in that cloud of smoke, and the things they were doing to him felt so damn good, and he couldn't remember being touched like that in his entire life. He moved around to give them more access to him, and he even took the initiative at some parts, pulling either of them into individual make outs. He moaned when Meulin ground her body against his, he cried out when Kurloz tugged on his hair and pressed his erection against his backside.

"Do you want to go our bedroom?" Meulin asked Dave.

Dave thought about it, he thought about how if he said no, the only thing he had to look forward to was wandering around in the cold until the shelter opened up in the morning, seeing as how curfew was several hours ago. He'd much rather spend the night in a bed with two strangers that can keep him warm. He was too high to care about any consequences he might have to deal with in the morning. It wasn't like this was the first time he had done something like this before. It sure as hell beat sleeping alone on the streets.

"Yeah." Dave answered, feeling a bit breathless as the two of them still kissed and touched him.

He felt the two of them guiding him towards the narrow hallway, towards their bedroom at the end of the hall. Their bedroom was much darker than the living room, here there was no large TV screen illuminating the room. Dave felt himself being tossed onto a large, plush bed. He felt the layers of quilts beneath him before he felt Meulin on top of him. Out of the corner of his eye he heard a hissing noise, then saw Kurloz's face, makeup smudged from their makeouts on the couch, illuminated by the flame of a match. He saw him light a couple candles on a dresser drawer, and the dark room was much brighter, and candle light danced on the ceiling and walls as the three of them crawled all over each other in that bed.

Dave woke up to the smell of wax and the sense that his high from the night before was over. He woke up alone, and got out of the bed and found his discarded clothes on the floor. He went out to the living room and found Meulin fully dressed, petting one of her many cats.

"Where's Kurloz?" He asked her.

"At work." Meulin answered.

Dave was surprised to hear that, he would've thought that out of the two of them, Meulin would be the one with the job.

"Thanks for letting me spend the night. I'll head out now." Dave told her.

"Wait." Meulin said.

Dave turned back to her.

Meulin pointed to her face.

"You might want to wash your face before you go out."

Dave brought a couple fingers to his mouth and when he brought them back, he saw the black face paint that had rubbed off on him the night before.

"Oh damn." Dave muttered.

"Bathroom's the second door on the right." Meulin told him, pointing towards the hallway behind him.

"Thanks." He told her.

When he came back out, he had scrubbed all the face paint off his face, and his skin was bright red from his efforts. He went to grab his hoodie and put his shoes back on. He felt Meulin tap him on his shoulder. He stood up and turned to face her. She handed him a brown paper sack she had decorated with Sailor Moon stickers.

"What's this?" He asked her.

"A sack lunch. A tuna sandwich, a couple oranges, and some more of those ginger snap cookies you like so much." She told him.

"Wow. Thanks Meu, that's really nice of you." Dave told her, reaching in to grab a ginger snap.

"Dave, you need to find Dirk, ask him about his past life." Meulin told him.

"Why? Why should I do that?" Dave asked her.

"Because you know what's coming, just like I do, don't you, sad little orange bird?"

He looked up at her, his mouth turned into a tight line.

Meulin nodded sadly.

"I've known for a while now. I've had a sinking feeling that something's not right, and it hasn't really been right for a long time. I wasn't wrong when I said I sensed some kind of relationship between you and Dirk. I think you should find him, and share your stories, before it's too late." Meulin advised him.

Dave stared at her, and then sighed and nodded, and he saw through his shades her grin that returned to her face. He signed, Goodbye, to her, before he left her apartment. As he walked outside, he wondered where the hell he was supposed to find Dirk, and how much time he had left. He didn't know how much time he had wasted already, but he hoped it wasn't too much. The winds were even harsher than before, and there were hardly any other people on the streets or on the roads. The weather seemed to be getting worse with every passing day.

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Dirk let himself into Dolorosa Tattoos. He had heard from the guy at the gas station that this was the best place in town to get new ink, and he'd been itching for a while now to get something on his arm.

He told the person at the front what he wanted, and they yelled for Maryam to come out, she had a customer. Dirk saw Porrim come out from behind a jade velvet curtain, her long curly hair piled on top of her hair in a messy bun.

"Dirk, fancy meeting you here." She said.

"Hey. Porrim, I didn't know you were a tattoo artist." Dirk said as she led him to her work station.

"Oh yeah, this is how I make my livelihood, when I'm not leading awful support groups that accomplish nothing."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short. It was a good idea, bringing us together. Maybe it takes more than a couple weekly meetings for us to get anything done though." Dirk said.

"Maybe you're right." Porrim said, going over to her needle guns.

"What were you hoping to accomplish anyway?" Dirk asked while he looked at the selection of tattoos on the wall.

"Oh I don't know, maybe I thought some good could come out of it, that we'd all become closer and find out why we can remember things from our past lives."

Dirk walked over to the chair, watching Porrim mess around with her set of needles. He saw the thick tattoo swirls that covered her arms, from shoulder to wrist. He didn't think he had the inner strength to get something like that done.

"I think that's a pretty noble idea." Dirk told her.

Porrim grinned. "Isn't it though?"

The back door opened, and Damara walked in, stomping the snow from her boots onto the mat.

"Damara, I can smell you. I told you, during work you can have smoke breaks, as in cigarettes, not pot, do you understand?" Porrim asked.

"私を舐めなさいレズビアン吸血鬼." Damara replied, flipping her off as she headed to the mini fridge.

"Does she speak English?" Dirk asked Porrim.

"Yes, but not very well. But she understands everything you say. We couldn't hire her as a piercing artist if she couldn't." Porrim replied.

"She's a piercer?" Dirk asked.

"Yes, but I'd stay away from her if I was you, she'll try to talk you into getting your dick pierced." Porrim said.

"Does that happen a lot?"

Porrim sighed, "More often than not, yes."

After doing some prep work, Porrim started applying ink to Dirk's right shoulder. While she worked, she told Dirk about her past life.

"I don't think I was anyone really important. More of a satellite character to others. But I remember having lots of friends and romantic partners. The most vivid thing I can recall is the tattoos on my body, which I recreated from memory and had someone tattoo them on for me. I'm almost certain I was a hardcore believer in feminism, much as I am now. I think I was someone who got into a lot of arguments with someone I can't even remember. And I can remember being a…mother? But I don't think I ever gave birth. It's funny, but I remember being someone who conditionally loved someone, and who loved many people fiercely. But I feel I died after many years of sadness, after the death of my child. It's odd, I can't really remember much, but I remember the feelings I had in my past, and the emotions I went through. I think I might have had a son."

Dirk thought about telling her about his own past lives, but decided against it. There was someone else he felt he should be sharing that with.

"You're finished. Do you like it?" Porrim asked.

Dirk hopped out of the chair and looked at his arm in the mirror on the wall. He admired the detail work she had put into something so small, the intricacies were well worth the numbness on his arm.

"It looks great. How much do I owe you?"

"Oh you pay up front." Porrim said, pointing towards the front.

After Dirk paid for his new ink, he returned to the back to grab his coat. Porrim was busy making instant ramen in the microwave while Damara filed her nails.

"Thanks for the new ink." Dirk told Porrim.

"You're welcome. While you're here, why don't you hear Damara's story?"

They turned their heads in Damara's direction, and she looked up from her nail file.

"よく始まるため-"

"In English, please, Damara." Porrim interrupted.

Damara rolled her eyes and flipped Porrim off. After she put down her nail file, she started to speak.

"I was someone very important. A figure who was feared throughout the cosmos. An evil witch, whose mission was to spread despair and horror through time. Before that, I was an ordinary girl, humble, meek and mild. I can remember being in love briefly, and after that feeling the scorching fires of betrayal and hurt. And then anger. Lots of anger and a strong sex drive, like volcano."

"Wow. That sounds interesting. And really scary." Dirk said.

Damara smirked at him, then went back to filing her nails.

"What have you got planned for today?" Porrim asked Dirk as she followed him on the way out.

"I don't know yet. I've got the day off, I might just do nothing." Dirk replied.

"Well have fun with that." Porrim said as she went back inside Dolorosa Tattoos.

Dirk walked for a couple blocks, the fabric of his coat brushed against his new tattoo a few times, and that stung like hell. But it wasn't like he could just go without a coat, it was the end of the month, and the days were getting colder and it was getting harder to be out in this weather without a car. But he'd been itching to get some new ink, and he was actually really happy with it. He was happy he had gotten non slip shoes, there were patches of ice on the sidewalks and it took all of his concentration not to fall down. He knew it was supposed to be cold at the end of the year, but it was verging on fucking dangerous. He walked a bit farther, until he saw someone walking towards him. He took off his triangle shades in order to see them better. Of all the people to be out in this weather he didn't expect Dave to be one of them. He saw Dave was still wearing that orange hoodie. It made him uncomfortable to see Dave shivering like that.

"Dave! Hey, Dave!" Dirk waved him over.

When he noticed him, Dave ran over to Dirk, risking slipping on ice just to get over to where he was.

"Hey Dirk. Where are you going?" Dave asked.

"I'm heading home, what are you doing out in this cold?" Dirk asked.

"Looking for you." Dave said.

"What? Why?"

"I um, need to talk to you. And have you talk to me. I don't really understand it myself, but-"

"Can you even see with those sunglasses on?" Dirk interrupted.

"Huh? Not right now, I mean everything looks like dark grey blobs to me. I only knew it was you because of the sound of your voice." Dave said.

"So take your glasses off." Dirk said.

"No, it's a security thing for me." Dave said.

Dirk reached out and grabbed Dave's elbow.

"Jesus fucking Christ, you feel like a icicle."

"Where are we going?" Dave asked as he felt Dirk pulling him forwards.

"We're going to my place, as it turns out, I need to talk to you too."

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Dirk's apartment was a lot more spacious than Meulin and Kurloz's. But that was because his place was sparse, and there was hardly anything in it. There was a futon, and a work bench covered in blue prints, and lots of cinder blocks holding everything up. There were no comforts. No knick knacks, nothing that told you that someone lived here. There was no mess, everything that was there was placed neatly and in a specific order. It felt cold, calculated, and kind of heartless. Dave thought that was an awful thing to think, but there it was. He was grateful that Dirk's apartment was actually warm, though, in temperature at least. He took off his hoodie, and draped it on the futon and took off his wet shoes.

Dirk saw the hickies that covered Dave's neck.

"I see you had fun at Meulin's."

Dave covered his neck.

"Oh come on, you can't tell me you've never done anything like that before."

"Actually I can't. I'm gay, remember? I've never slept at a girls place."

There was a silence between them, until Dirk asked, "It wasn't just her, was it?"

Dave shook his head. "No."

"In succession?"

"Concurrently." Dave answered.

"Concurrently? Interesting."

Dave squirmed, "Hey it's not like I make it a habit."

Dirk nodded, "I know. Sit down, I'll make us some ramen."

After they had eaten, they sat across from each other at the dinner table. In the light, Dave saw Dirk's orange eyes, and felt a little less insecure about his own orange-red eyes. Dirk gave Dave a can of orange fanta, then apologized for not having anything else in the fridge to drink. Dave shrugged it off. Before he could talk about what he really wanted to talk about, he had to address the thing on Dirk's arm.

"Why did you get that tattoo?" Dave asked.

Dirk looked up at him, then to the new ink on his body.

"I just had this strange image in my head, and I needed it, you know? Like some bizarre craving. They didn't even have anything like this available, but I knew exactly how it was supposed to look, and described it in perfect detail."

Dave saw the small tattoo of an impaled crow, feathers scattered around, the crow's beak open in shock and pain. The sword looked like a katana, and Dave was sure that's exactly what it was. The wings were spread out, and while the crow had a katana piercing its little torso, he couldn't see any blood.

"So if I have to guess, you want me to tell you about the memories I have of my past life, before the next meeting." Dirk said.

"Yeah, that's exactly it. In exchange I'll tell you about my memories." Dave said.

"So a trade off." Dirk said, taking a swig of his own can of fanta.

Dave nodded, "Something like that."

Dirk cleared his throat.

"I'm not the best at talking about myself, let alone a past version of myself. You might get bored."

"I won't get bored. Just start at the beginning. What's the first thing you can remember from your other life?"

Dirk thought for a moment, and said one word.

"Water."

"Water?" Dave repeated.

"I remember lots of water. I think I was surrounded by it. I think trapped would be a better word. I don't think I could really go anywhere, except around my apartment and up to the roof. I was alone for a long time, except for some inanimate objects and some robots I made. I had sunglasses just like the ones I'm wearing now. It took me years to find a pair exactly like them. I can remember making robots, but I don't have the ability now in this life. My personality is exactly the same as now. Except, I think I was a lot more full of myself and more confident in my abilities. And I was incredibly lonely. Even more so than I am now. I had a lot of people I talked to, but none I ever really saw, or touched, or heard. I wanted to see them, my friends. I didn't want to be alone. I had someone I wanted to touch, to be with. I grew up all alone, and had never laid eyes on another human being. I was by myself for years and years, and for a long time I was afraid I was going to die alone, with no one to know, and no one to grieve me."

When he had finished talking, Dirk saw Dave staring at him impassively. His face felt warm and wet. Dirk brought his fingers up to his face, he felt the tears on his face, tears he wasn't even aware he had shed.

"Sorry, I don't usually get emotional like this." Dirk said, feeling embarrassed at the waver in his voice.

"It's cool. Do you want to take a break?" Dave asked.

"...Yeah. Yeah, Um, do you want to watch something? I don't have cable or netflix or anything, but there's a milk crate somewhere in this place that's got my Muppet movie collection."

"Hell yeah man, the Muppets fucking rule." Dave said.

Dirk got from the table just Dave was getting up, and he grinned at Dave.

"What?"

"It's just...that the first time I think I've ever seen you really smile."

Dave spent the next five hours on Dirk's futon, watching Dirk's collection of Muppet movies, secluded and warm in that sparse apartment. In the middle of the second film, unprovoked, Dirk began to talk about another life of his.

"You know, I can remember being someone else than just that kid alone in the middle of the ocean. My other life was much longer. I think. I don't remember any events, but I can recall having someone in my life. Someone I took care of for a long time. I think, in that life I was alone for a long time, until that person came into my life. You know, I'm certain I was a parent. That's kind of a ridiculous thing to think about. Me, with a kid. What right would I have, bringing a kid up in this world?"

Dave sat up, and looked at Dirk.

"No, you're wrong. It's not ridiculous."

Dirk smiled at him.

"Thanks for saying that."

At the start of the third movie, they fell asleep together, with Dave on top of Dirk, his head resting on top of Dirk's chest. When they woke up later, they stretched their arms and heard their bones crack.

"Sorry, didn't mean to fall asleep on you." Dave said as he headed into the kitchen.

"It's cool. Hey, weren't you gonna tell me about your own past life? Fair's fair and all that." Dirk said as he followed Dave.

Dave rummaged through the cabinets, grabbing a cup, and filling it with tap water. He drank quite a bit of it, and set the cup down on the counter.

"You know I don't think I want to." Dave said.

"Wait, what?"

"Thanks for having me over. I'm gonna head out now." Dave said, moving past Dirk.

Dirk caught up with Dave, and followed him around the room as he put his shoes back on.

"Whoa, whoa, where'd this come from? I thought we were having fun." Dirk said.

"We did have fun. And now it's over, and I'm gonna get out of your hair."

Dave stood up, grabbed his hoodie, and began to put it back on.

"You can't just leave. It's the middle of the night, and there's a storm out there." Dirk said.

"I'll be fine, I'll just find an abandoned car to sleep in." Dave said, heading towards the door.

"You're not," Dirk grabbed Dave's arm, and pulled him back so hard Dave fell backwards and landed on the floor. Dirk went to the door, and locked it with the dead bolt.

He turned to face Dave, who was looking up at him from his place on the floor.

"You're not leaving. I don't...I don't want you to."

The tenseness in Dave's body melted away when he heard the truth spoken from Dirk's mouth. Dirk walked over to him, and offered him a hand. Without hesitating, Dave took Dirk's hand, and let Dirk pull him back up. They went back to the futon, and sat down. Dave took off his shoes, but kept his hoodie on.

"Tell me why you don't want to share your story with me." Dirk said.

"I do want to share my story with you dude, but I'm kind of afraid of the consequences." Dave answered.

"Why?"

"Because something awful is going to happen. I've known it would happen for a long time now. I came to that group meeting hoping they could get rid of the knowledge in my head. It's been driving me fucking crazy for a long time now. See, the things I can remember, I know those are the real memories, and this life I'm living is a conspicuous lie. It's not a case of remembering a past life. It's a matter of remembering the life I'm going to have. The events in my head are events that haven't happened to me yet. And while everyone else has two sets of past lives to recall, I only have the one life that I can remember in vivid detail but haven't lived yet. I remember everything, and it fucking kills me. I can remember having a parental figure, and friends. I can remember going to school, and sleeping in a bed, and having my own room. I remember playing video games and a time when my only concerns were getting more apple juice and sharing my new raps with my best friend."

Dirk just sat there, and listened to everything Dave had to say.

"There's a place in my memories that stands out above any of the other ones. It's one where the world I was in before gets taken away, and I'm trapped for months in a place with only one other person for company. And two of my friends are dead. And it goes on like this, for a long time, and I have to repeat myself, over and over, and over again. And then the loops just stop. And I'm stuck again, but not in a timeline, but in another body. It's either that, or die, and when faced with the choice of either changing my body or dying, I picked changing my body. I'm not human, not anymore. I'm a construct, I'm a thing, and I don't matter any more. My friends don't care about me, they have a Dave, a real Dave, and I'm left by the wayside. And I'm okay with that, because it means I've done my job, and everyone lives. It doesn't matter if I'm forgotten, or if I'm a freak of nature. Because that's life, and that's my fate, and I've made peace with it."

Dirk shook his head.

"That can't be right."

"Oh it is." Dave said.

Dirk didn't know what to do with that information. He asked the question that had been on his mind.

"You said something awful was going to happen. How do you know that?"

"The same way I know the things I remember are things that will happen, as opposed to what has happened." Dave replied.

"Yeah that makes sense." Dirk said.

Dave smirked. "No it doesn't."

Dirk smiled right back at him, "You're right, it doesn't."

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Dave ended up staying at Dirk's for a few days while the storm outside raged on. They sustained themselves on instant ramen and orange soda, and slept together on the futon after having Muppet movie marathons that they never got tired of. As the days wore on Dirk could see something was bothering Dave, but he refused to say what it was. Dirk thought it must have something to do with the awful thing that Dave had told him was coming. Dirk didn't have a clue what that was, and he wondered if knowing would be scarier than not knowing what was going to happen. And if knowing was the scarier option, then he didn't know how Dave was still functioning.

They went down to the church on the day of the next meeting. The storms were still raging on, but they had calmed down slightly, and the roads were clearer than they had been before. Even though it was the middle of the day the streetlights had been turned on because the black clouds in the sky darkened everything. It was freezing cold out, the winds were so icy they felt like tiny knives briefly cutting across your skin. Ice and snow covered nearly every surface. Dirk had lent Dave a coat, and as they walked down towards the church Dirk held Dave's hand after Dave had stumbled a few times, even though Dave had taken his sunglasses off. They arrived and found the rest of the group standing in front of the church doors.

"What's going on?" Dave asked.

"The stupid doors to the stupid church are frozen with ice." Meenah said, pointing to the doors.

"What?" Dirk asked, letting go of Dave's hand to see for himself.

Dave looked over at Meulin, who smiled at him, like she knew something the others obviously didn't. Dave shook his head in her direction.

"The doors aren't frozen, Meenah, just the door handles." Aranea corrected.

"Who gives a flying fin, the meaning is still the same, we can't get inside." Meenah told her.

"I'm so sorry everyone, I didn't know this kind of thing was going to happen. If everyone wants to, we can find another place to have our meeting." Porrim said.

"Porrim, I think everyone just wants to go home." Damara said.

"Yes, no offense, but I think these meetings haven't gotten us very far. We don't know why we can remember out previous lives, or what the memories mean." Meulin said to Porrim, Kurloz stood behind her and nodded to show he agreed with her.

Porrim sighed and shook her head, "I think you're all right, okay the Past Life Regression Anonymous group is shut down, I am calling it, we accomplished nothing, I mean we could've taken off the regression part, we all had our memories already, what was the point of that? I'm sorry everyone, let's just go home."

"I don't think that's a possibility." Dave said.

"Why?" Aranea asked.

"Look around you, things are getting worse." Dave said.

Everyone looked around them. The winds were getting worse, and it was colder and darker outside than it was when they'd gotten there.

"So the weather's getting bad, that doesn't mean anything." Porrim said.

"It's more than that. This world, it isn't real, it's coming to an end." Dave said.

"That's ridiculous." Meenah shouted.

"No, it's not. Think about it, think about your lives, they're artificial constructs. This world isn't real, it's just a possibility, a world that could have existed but never really did."

"You sound insane!" Aranea yelled, hugging Meenah as the sharp winds blew around them.

"He's not wrong," Meulin said. "I've had this strong feeling for a long time, ever since I came to the first group meeting, that something very wrong was going to happen."

"And what is that?" Porrim asked.

"The destruction of reality and our deaths." Dave answered.

"...That sounds fucking stupid." Meenah said.

"Maybe it does, but it's happening." Dave said.

There was a scream, and everyone looked at Meulin.

She screamed in pain, as the skin was ripped from her skin, first in shreds, then in longer strips. The wind howled around them, louder and more biting than ever. As her skin was stripped away, Kurloz's own skin was ripped off. Their screams combined as everyone saw their bodies being torn away like paper, until they were nothing but blood and muscle, and even that was stripped away. The group screamed at them, and watched helplessly as they were ripped completely apart into nothing.

"Is that going to happen to us?" Aranea asked.

"Yes." Dave said bluntly.

"What the fuck was that?" Porrim asked.

"What Dave told you before, our deaths." Dirk said as he moved to stand next to Dave.

"This world is falling apart, and we can't live in a world that's falling apart." Dave said.

"So what happens when the world collapses and we die?" Meenah asked.

"I don't know. This world ceases to exist, and I think we go to the lives we've been remembering, the ones that we're going to have." Dave said.

"So those memories we've been experiencing, they aren't past lives, they're lives we're going to experience." Aranea said.

"I think they're the lives we're supposed to live." Dave said.

The weather got even worse, and the world became darker and emptier. Meenah and Aranea clung tightly to each other as they felt the pain of their flesh being ripped away from them, first it was their skin, then the muscles and fat underneath that, and the organs and blood splattered against the wind. Their bones dissolved into piles of dust, and the wind swept that away into the snow. Porrim and Damara suffered the same fate, and like the ones that had gone before them, they screamed in agony as their bodies were ripped apart until there was nothing left. The noise of the world became louder, and the buildings and the streets were torn apart, and there was nothing but cold and darkness.

"I don't understand. Why would we exist in this world, if it was just going to fall apart anyway? What was the point of all this?" Dirk asked, is voice loud and clear over the destruction.

"I don't know. I don't even know what's going to happen to us after we die." Dave said.

"How could you live with knowing that this was going to happen?" Dirk asked.

"I think, it was easy for me because I had a feeling, that I wouldn't be alone when it happened." Dave answered.

Dirk pulled Dave against him, and held onto him as the world fell apart to nothingness, and the empty darkness and the cold made everything hurt even more. Dave clung to Dirk, and muffled his screams of pain against the fabric of his coat.

"I don't want to die. Oh God, I don't want to die. I know this world isn't real and I can't stay here, but I'm afraid, Dave I'm afraid of what's on the other side, I'm afraid of the pain, and Dave, oh God, Dave, I'm scared."

"I know Dirk. But you aren't dying alone. I'm here, I'm right here, and we can die together. I know it's scary, but you don't have to go through it alone, I'm here Dirk. I'm right here with you."

Dirk kissed the soft blond hair on top of Dave's head, the hair that was icy on his lips. He squeezed Dave close to him, tighter and tighter, as the world around them continued to crumble and fall apart, and the wind drowned out any other sound, and there was nothing there anymore, but cold darkness. Dirk closed his eyes, and he heard Dave crying, and he hugged him closer, and while they huddled together, they howled in agony as their flesh was torn away, strip by strip, blood by blood, bone by bone, until there was nothing left there but a void where an entire world once stood.

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He woke up, lying on the ground. His body felt whole again, bigger, more sturdy. The ground beneath him was cold and hard, and flat. He opened his eyes and saw grey clouds above him, and he realized he wasn't wearing his trademark shades. He tried to get up, tried to move and found he couldn't he was stuck to the ground. He looked down and saw his own sword impaled through his torso, pinning him to the ground. When he tried to move up, his organs hurt, and he could see the spots where he was bleeding out. It didn't hurt as bad as he thought it would, except for when he dwelt on the non pain did he actually begin to feel some pain, like a self fulfilling prophecy. He heard some some cries, and felt some wetness falling on his face. He looked up, and saw a familiar face.

Dave, his Dave, his kid he'd raised all those years, Dave, he'd wanted him to grow up to be his own person, and not to idolize anyone but instead to be his own hero. Dave was hovering above him, weakened from the fight, bleeding himself, feathers strewn about, one wing mutilated. Dave was crying over him, mourning him before he was even gone. He was Dave, and yet at the same time, he wasn't. He knew there were slight differences, but this was still Dave, even if he's now an orange half-crow creature with a gut bleeding out, and he still loves him just the same.

He listened to Dave's cries.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God...please, please Bro, you can't die, you can't. I should've stopped...it can't end like this, not here, not now!" Dave sobbed.

He looked at him, and he could faintly remember Dave as that sullen boy in the orange hoodie. That world always felt like a dream in the back of his mind that turned into a nightmare. He didn't remember much about that world, but the one thing that always stuck out to him was Dave, this Dave. He loved him, and he only wished he could spend more time with him.

"Please Bro, please don't die, I don't know what you'd do if you'd died." Dave begged, leaning forward.

He saw some of his blood stain the medallion he was wearing, staining the white and green disc red. He remembered something Dave had said before, and he felt it was important to say something about that.

"Dave...you're not a thing, or a freak of nature. You're Dave, and you're so important. Please don't ever forget that."

Dave looked at him with a horrified expression, as if he was getting the bits and pieces of that life that had been all forgotten, tucked away and merged with his real memories of his real life that he was living now. He had stopped crying, but the tears still fell down his face. He grabbed Dave's hand, and squeezed it tight.

"Thank you Dave, thank you, for not letting me die alone."

"I'm right here Bro, I'm not going anywhere."

He smiled at Dave, and in his mind he could see himself in a completely different life, exactly like the one he had told Dave about, so long ago on that futon in that world that no longer exists. He felt that's where he was headed, and even if he wouldn't remember any of this, he felt a twinge of happiness, at knowing that he and Dave would find each other in that life, just as they had found each other in this one.

"I'll see you soon Dave, I'll see you real soon." He told him, while Dave sobbed, he closed his eyes, for the very last time.


End file.
